


a matter of perspective

by kairco



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Gen, Trans Daniel Jacobi, Trans Male Character, pre si5, this is a little poetic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 19:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14142873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kairco/pseuds/kairco
Summary: one man in a vast universe. he doesn't think of it that way.





	a matter of perspective

**Author's Note:**

> this is just some poetry inspired by jacobi.

i: rabbit anthem 

The earth mumbles and they listen. her gravelly voice vibrates a chord deep in them and they don't know why. Something hidden inside runs wild and they drive too fast and fall in love too easily. They were once careful, but neon and city rainstorms have reclaimed them to the new call of the wild. This is no place to make a life. 

ii: you are light & i’m a wasteland

Nobody leaves to the south. There is hot wind to bones clean and fused sand the color of blood and memories too recent to forget, yet too old to remember. Some unholy prophet has found his god there and been found wanting. he prayed to a dirty god, one of heat and light and power. Those who live to the north of the glass plain do not remember, but will not forget. 

iii: coming of age

When you leave, it's no grand affair. You slip out in the evening as relatives drink cheap wine in the living room and reminisce about the good old days. Those days weren't all they were cracked up to be but they were young and remember their youth in retouched glory. You walk south under red sun into red sand. Somehow, it's fitting. 

iv: roman candles

You walk into this manmade glass desert. The sun is gone, but you don't need her. Not for this. Nour hands shake as you undo the clasp on the box you brought with you. This box was the only luxury you permitted yourself when you ushered yourself into a new life. Your cheap gas station lighter clicks to life and you scream from your chest as the first rocket explodes. 

v: switzerland 

The ticket is cheap and you hate every moment of the flight. You are the antithesis of the atmosphere here. They don't trust your body, your manner, your very thoughts. You glance nervously at the man who sits next to you. His voice is like the growl of a tiger on the prowl. When you were six, you saw a tiger at the zoo and couldn't be dragged away from the glass window for all your parents' begging. You were held rapt then, enamored and terrified.Maybe you haven't changed as much as you thought since then. 

vi: false realities

You are not who you say you are and yet have never been more yourself. The name on your Latvian driver's license is not your own, but it isn't specifically not yours. They've arranged everything, they told you. It's for security. You are finally him, finally you, but your landlord doesn't know that. He doesn't know your history, doesn't know your scars. He just thinks you're some stupid american here on a government contract, never to return when it expires. In a way he's right. You'll never come back to this small Eastern European town, but you will always remember this still town as the first place you were truly yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> prompts from [here](http://thesuburbanghosts.tumblr.com/post/171548442374/march) and you can find me on tumblr [here!](http://cryptocosmology.tumblr.com)


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